


i wanna see you forever and ever

by petwerelizard



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Hospitals, M/M, but he's fine, stiles gets shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petwerelizard/pseuds/petwerelizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He ignored Stiles for a week when he realized what it meant, and then Stiles had come to his apartment.  He had just seemed to known, but he didn’t push it, and Derek was grateful for that. He wasn’t ready.</p><p>But he’s ready now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna see you forever and ever

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting on my computer for a while and I wanted to post it. Ugh. Also half of this probably doesn't even make sense.

“You can’t do this to me again,” Derek says.

He feels like crying. He feels like laughing. He can’t stop staring at Stiles, from where he’s sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed. The room is obnoxiously white, and smells like bleach and sickness.  

Stiles frowns. “I didn’t do this to you.” He has color in him again.

“You can’t heal like me-“ Derek swallows, turning away. He can’t even speak.

“I know,” Stiles says, gently, like he’s trying to soothe a lamb. Derek feels Stiles’ palm clasp Derek’s own, and brings them to Stiles’ chest. “But look, listen, I’m fine, yeah?”

Derek shuts his eyes tight, listens to Stiles’ heartbeat echo from the monitor on the side of his bed. It’s a reassuring noise, and he doesn’t even need the monitor to hear it, but it’s a comfort to hear the noise amplified in the room.

“You’re fine,” Derek says, but it sounds more like a reassurance.

“Yes,” Stiles says. “I am.”

“But you weren’t,” Derek says, desperately.

“But I am now,” Stiles says.  “That’s all that matters.”

“That’s-“ Derek is frustrated. “ _God_ , Stiles, do you know what it was like, holding you, running to the hospital, Scott screaming in my ear, Isaac was crying, Erica was hysterical-“

Stiles grimaces. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry for making you all worry, but I’m not sorry for taking that bullet.”

“They said if it had been an inch higher, that you would have –,” Derek swallows, “you would have died.”

“But it wasn’t an inch higher, and I’m not dead,” Stiles says firmly.  “And I’m fine. Well, at least until I get out of here and my dad finally flips his shit. Did he threaten to make me live at home and never let me out?”  He laughs, and Derek listens carefully. He remembers the panic he felt, holding Stiles body, pale and bloody and lifeless.

“I wouldn’t blame him if he did,” Derek says. “You have no self-preservation whatsoever.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Stiles grins. “Anyway, I run with wolves, it’s kind of expected for me to get hurt once in a while.”

“No,” Derek says.  “This isn’t a joke, Stiles, this is your life.”

“I know.” Stiles sobers quickly. “Sorry.”  

“This doesn’t have to be your life,” Derek says.  Stiles’ face hardens.

“If this is your way of kicking me out of the pack,” Stiles begins angrily, “well, fat chance because someone has to care of all your werewolf asses when you get shot with wolfsbane and-“

“No!” Derek rushes to explain. “This is different, Stiles. _You’re_ different. You don’t have to help us, you know. But you do, you choose to. You were pack before Scott. You helped me before we all came together-“

“Begrudgingly,” Stiles’ lips quirk.

 Derek smiles. “Yeah.”

“But not anymore.” Stiles squeezes their hands.

“You’ll always be pack.” There is more he wants to say, but Derek doesn’t know how to explain it.

Stiles isn’t a wolf, he doesn’t have to help them. But he does. He doesn’t think of himself, and constantly puts himself in danger. He brings them together when they need to work together, is great at making plans and ideas, and makes Derek watch shitty movies when Derek told him and he and Laura used to do that. He doesn’t realize how important he is to them all, how important he is to _Derek_.

“I don’t think you realize how much you matter to us.” The _especially me_ is implied, and Derek hopes Stiles hears it.

He must, because Stiles has a sort of private, smug smile on his face.

“Shut up,” Derek tells him. Stiles just laughs.

“I didn’t say anything!” He’s smiling brightly up at Derek. “Anyway, I always knew I was your favorite.”

“You’re my least,” Derek says.  He remembers when that was true, and how wrong that statement is now.

Stiles smirks. “I don’t believe you.”

“Good,” Derek says.

Stiles looks away, cheeks tinting pink, and plays with Derek’s hand absentmindedly. Derek tangles their fingers together.

Stiles shifts like he’s in discomfort.

“Are you fine?” Derek moves in closer. “Do you need anything or-“

“No,” Stiles smiles weakly. “It’s fine. The bandages are just itchy.”

“Another reason for you not to take bullets for me,” Derek points out. Stiles glares at him.

“And we’re back to this again,” Stiles rolls his eyes up at the celling.

Derek frowns. “Stiles-“

“No!” Stiles looks mad. “I can take as many bullets for you as I want, okay? I’m okay. You see me right?” He points to himself, obnoxiously, and Derek almost grins. “ I’m intact. I’m not _glass_ , Derek.”

“But you’re not invincible, Stiles!” Derek says.

“Neither are you!” Stiles yells.

Derek is silent for a minute.  “There was so much blood,” he says quietly. “And you weren’t answering. I kept calling your name. And your heartbeat was so faint.” It was one of the worst things Derek had ever heard.  “I would have healed.”

“Wolfsbane,” Stiles points out, angrily.

 “It doesn’t matter,” Derek says. “Rather I die than you.”

“Don’t say that,” Stiles says, fiercely, sitting up and wincing slightly.  “Look, I saw that hunter point it at you, and I just panicked, and I just ran in front of you.”

 Derek sighs. “You might run with werewolves, Stiles, but you aren’t one. You don’t heal like us, you’re not as fast-“

“Thanks for the reminder,” Stiles says dryly. “I’m aware that I’m not as strong as all of you. No need to make me feel like shit.” He frowns, and he smells sour.

Derek frowns, because no, Stiles doesn’t get it. Even after all he’s done, he still thinks he’s not good enough.  “You don’t need to be one, Stiles,” Derek tells him. “You’re perfect, the way you are. You’re strong and smart, and without you, I don’t think anyone of us would be alive.”

Derek remembers how Stiles helped with them back during the Alpha Pack (or alpaca, as Stiles has named them) 3 years ago.  How that was when he and Stiles began to work together, how Derek had learned why Stiles kept his hair in a buzz cut, how that was when Derek talked about his family for the first time without a bitter taste forming in his mouth.  

He remembers his eyes lingering on rosebud lips, on long fingers dancing over a keyboard, on golden eyes fixed intently on a computer screen. He remembers how scared he’d been at first, how it’d felt so much like Kate, and then not like Kate at all.

He ignored Stiles for a week when he realized what it meant, and then Stiles had come to his apartment.  He had just seemed to known, but he didn’t push it, and Derek was grateful for that. He wasn’t ready.

But he’s ready now.

“You think I’m perfect,” Stiles’ eyes sparkle, fix on Derek’s.  There is a new scent in the air, sweet and like cinnamon. It breaks through the smell of medicine and fills Derek up, warm like syrup in a can.

“I thought I was obvious,” Derek’s lips quirk slightly.

“Please,” Stiles breathes out. “I’ve only just become fluent of your language of scowls.”

“Yeah?” Derek says, smiles as he leans in closer, presses his forehead to Stiles’. “Gotten your degree yet?”

“I’m working on-“ Stiles’ words are swallowed by the press of Derek’s lips.

Derek kisses him carefully. He holds his head carefully between his hands, cradles his cheeks.  And Stiles kisses back like he’s been waiting for it. He tilts his head to the side, opens his mouth, and let’s Derek lick his way inside.  His own tongue comes out to trace Derek’s upper lip, and one of his hands comes to clutch Derek’s arms, holding him like he’s afraid Derek is going to run away.

“Oh,” Stiles mutters when they stop, eyes wide. “Nice.”

“Yeah,” Derek laughs. “Nice,” he echoes. He press their lips together a couple of times before pulling back.

“Took you long enough,” Stiles teases.

“I know,” Derek sighs.

“Couldn’t resist my charm anymore?” Stiles asks.

“I really couldn’t,” Derek says, attempting for sarcastic, but the tenderness in his eyes contradict that.

Stiles just beams. He’s always been good at knowing what Derek means.

“This just proves that I’m your favorite,” Stiles tells Derek. “I can’t wait to rub this in Erica’s face.”

“You can do whatever you want.” Derek lays his head on Stiles’ legs. “As long as you’re alive.”

**Author's Note:**

> Making titles will always be the hardest thing ever. I listened to Up All Night by Best Coast while writing this, because that's the song I play when I imagine couples in hospitals. I don't even know why.


End file.
